


When the Day Met the Night (All was Golden)

by maxisnotokay



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bar/Pub, Canon Compliant, Chance Meetings, Drinking, Kuroo Tetsurou is a Tease, Light Angst, M/M, Old Friends, Older Characters, POV Kuroo Tetsurou, Reconciliation, Reunions, Tsukishima Kei is Bad at Feelings, that feel when you both have your own lives and you don’t know anything about each other anymore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-13
Updated: 2019-11-13
Packaged: 2021-01-29 17:56:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21414277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maxisnotokay/pseuds/maxisnotokay
Summary: At the ripe age of twenty-three years old, Kuroo Tetsurou finds himself working at a bar for a few extra bucks. It’s not always so bad, especially since he gets to flirt with customers who seem receptive and sneak a few drinks in the back when his manager isn’t looking.Then a pretty blond with a familiar face walks in looking like he has no right to be there, and Kuroo’s world gets thrown a little off its axis.
Relationships: Kuroo Tetsurou & Tsukishima Kei, Kuroo Tetsurou/Tsukishima Kei, Tsukishima Kei & Yamaguchi Tadashi
Comments: 12
Kudos: 76





	When the Day Met the Night (All was Golden)

**Author's Note:**

> A little oneshot I found in my drafts! Thought I’d post it and here I am.

Kuroo Tetsurou was twenty-three years old when he ran into Tsukishima Kei for the first time since high school.

It’s not like he recognized him instantly; he’d only hung out with the kid all of four or five times in the first place. Plus, it’s not exactly like he was on the lookout for his kōhai in the midst of dealing with two piss-drunk men on one end of his bar; the blaring lights and music of the darkened nightclub around him took up the rest of his focus.

He’d seen the man approach his bar like any other customer would, looking particularly disinterested as he pulled up a seat and dropped his chin into his palm. It had only taken Kuroo a few moments to make his way over, expertly snatching a glass from the shelf under the bar and wiping it down with the clean rag he always had looped around his belt.

“What can I get you started with?” He propped himself up on one elbow, body language open and friendly (perhaps a little too close into the stranger’s personal space, but hey—he was cute, from what Kuroo could see under the flashing lights.)

The stranger was stiff as he shifted away, and Kuroo let an easy smirk tug his lips up at the reaction. The man was blond, from what he could tell, golden eyes glinting under black-rimmed glasses. Something was familiar about him—Kuroo couldn’t place it just yet. He’d need to get him to talk more or that fact alone would be bugging him for the rest of the night.

“I’ll take the strongest thing you have,” the stranger said. His words seemed a bit forced, a bit on edge, and Kuroo tilted his head curiously. “You in the mood for, like, peach… something? Or—”

“Just—” His jaw set, before he frowned slightly and shook his head. “The strongest thing you have. I don’t care about the flavor.”

“Right. Gonna need to see some ID for that.”

The stranger hesitated, sighed, before fidgeting with something out of sight—probably a wallet—and holding a thin card out for Kuroo to take. He did, feeling the sturdy plastic in his hands and squinting at the frowning face in the picture. His appearance didn’t give much away, but those same golden eyes stared out at him just as they did in real life. And his name, Tsukis—

Kuroo paused.

He read the name in front of him over again, eyebrows drawing together.

He swallowed, glanced up to the man in front of him (who was mildly glaring at him now,) before returning his gaze to the ID he was squeezing so hard his fingertips were white.

Tsukishima Kei.

A little laugh escaped before he could help himself. He glanced up, and watched as Tsukki shifted uncomfortably in front of him. How in the hell had he not noticed before? “Tsukishima!” He laughed, because what else was he possibly supposed to do? “Kei Tsukishima!”

The blond didn’t respond but he did lean away, just a little. Kuroo moved to hand back his card with a smile, but hesitated when he caught the slight tension in his shoulders, the anticipation in his muscles as if he were preparing to bolt. (In his defense, Kuroo _ had _slightly seemed a bit off his rocker, cackling in the poor boy’s face as he read his name out loud for anyone to hear after studying his face with curious intensity for far longer than socially acceptable.)

All of this in mind, Kuroo took it upon himself that the crow would not, in fact, be leaving without catching up, which is why he easily palmed his card and tucked it into his pocket.

Tsukishima frowned, eyes tracking his movements. “Hey—”

“Long time no see, Tsukki,” Kuroo pushed that pesky strand of hair out of his eyes again; it had been bothering him a lot that night, especially since he had taken the time to clip his fringe back out of his face to focus easier. “Kuroo Tetsurou, at your service.”

It took Tsukki a full five seconds to process, sitting there in a little pocket of time, and Kuroo _ swore _he could see the gears churning in his head. He was trying to place the name, trying to match it to memory.

And then it clicked.

Tsukishima’s back straightened, and Kuroo noticed the way his fingers interlocked subconsciously in front of him—a nervous tick he’d noticed over the first week they’d ever known each other.

Tsukki was still cautious as he observed him, shoulders still tense, but Kuroo would be lying if he said they hadn’t relaxed _ just _a bit at the familiarity of his name. “Kuroo-san?”

“The one and only.” Kuroo grinned, eyes flicking distractedly over to where a regular he’d never taken the time to share more than a few words with waving him over from the corner of his eye. 

A pang of guilt washed over him with the reminder of Tsukishima’s ID pressing against his leg, so he quickly retrieved it and slid it across his bar towards the younger man. Tsukishima eyed him uncertianly when he didn't immediately uncover the plastic square, instead leveling his gaze. “Don’t leave just yet, sorry, I’ll be right back.”

And then he was bustling away, still ringing the empty cup with his clean towel (maybe that was his own nervous habit?) before quickly taking the man’s order and pouring it. He ignored the sleazy smile and husky voice, ignored the way the man’s sticky fingers grazed his hand a bit too long and a bit too hard to be accidental when Tetsurou handed his drink over, smiling politely if only for the tip before retreating back to where Tsukishima was waiting patiently.

The blond’s eyes tracked the way Kuroo absently wiped at his hand with the rag around his belt but didn’t comment, instead propping his elbows onto the table. “Are you going to take my order now, or…?”

“So rude,” Kuroo snorted before could help it, ignoring the way Tsukki blinked, unfazed, and brought out another glass from below him. “Is that any way to treat your senpai?”

Neither of them said anything for a beat, and Kuroo only had a moment to wonder if he’d said something wrong before realizing that, perhaps, Tsukishima didn’t even know _ how _to respond to such a statement. He cleared his throat nonetheless, grinning. “Alright, your glare broke me. What do you want?”

“The strongest thing you have.” Tsukishima was still fidgeting with his fingers.

Kuroo took a moment to study his face, stoic as ever before his lips curled up and he tutted under his breath. “Nah.”

Tsukki blinked.

Kuroo stared.

Tsukki blinked again. “Excuse me?”

The bartender knew very well he was abusing his job, refusing someone a drink even though they were of the legal age, but he didn’t exactly think Tsukishima was the kind of guy to turn him in. 

He grinned as he skirted over to another couple a few seats down, keeping up the light conversation as he mixed and stirred their drinks in seconds flat, dropping them off. “You’re, like, six. I doubt your alcohol tolerance is very high to start with, so I’m not going to get myself fined and jailed when you end up dead in a ditch somewhere.”

“I’m twenty,” Kei frowned as if Tetsurou somehow didn’t know that. “I can handle a little alcohol.”

The cat raised an eyebrow, brushed the pesky black hair out of his face again, and turned back to his bar. Fiddling with a few things under the counter, he finally pushed a cocktail in Tsukishima’s direction, crossing his arms proudly. “Cassis Orange, just for you.”

Tsukishima frowned, eyes flicking from the drink in front of him to Kuroo’s face. “This is legitimately 70% orange juice.”

“No it’s not.”

A sigh parted Kei’s lips, though he didn’t look annoyed, necessarily. He nodded his chin towards something behind Kuroo, out of his range of sight. “There’s a sign behind you that lists what each drink is made of.”

“No, there isn’t,” Kuroo countered, not breaking eye contact as he clumsily reached behind him to smack the metal sign off of its post. It clattered to the floor behind him, loud enough to make Kei flinch. 

When he didn’t say anything else, Tsukishima sighed and glanced back to the drink in front of him. “How do I know you didn’t drug this?”

Kuroo pursed his lips to hide his grin, leaning forward onto his elbows teasingly. “You don’t.”

That, surprisingly enough, was what pushed the blond to take a hesitant sip. It spurred a laugh from Kuroo’s lips, just the strangeness of this day, this encounter. 

Tsukishima studied him lazily for a moment before breaking his gaze and staring into his glass as if wishing it was bottomless. “Are you in university, Kuroo-san?”

“Nah,” Kuroo replied easily, propping himself on his elbows when Tsukki’s neutral stare slid to his again. “I never went. Didn’t think it had anything for me.”

“Not even for volleyball? I’m sure you got scholarships.”

“Sure, but…” Kuroo shrugged and cleared his throat, not wanting to elaborate further. “It’s a long story. What about you, Tsukki? You should be in, what? Your first year by now? Second? Only smart people go to university, you know. The rest of us are bums.”

“I never went,” Tsukishima offered blankly, glasses glinting.

_ Shit. _

“Oh—um, I—_ shit, _I didn’t—”

“Kuroo-san, it’s fine.”

Kuroo coughed, cheeks dusted red as Tsukishima took another slow, cautious sip of his drink. “At least I know I’m making something of myself without it,” he said. “You, on the other hand…”

_ “Hey!” _ Kuroo squawked, offended. He was about to respond, too; was about to show his junior _ exactly _how wrong he was, but a customer down the line waved him over and he was forced to bitterly pull away from the task at hand: operation defend his pride.

“You think you’re so smart,” he made a face as he left, missing the teasing glint in Tsukishima’s eyes. “We’re not done here.”

“I’m sure,” Tsukki deadpanned back.

Kuroo snorted as he filled a few shots for the women in front of him, shooting them a quick, flirtatious smile. “You ladies enjoying yourselves?”

_ “Now _I am,” one said, the other giggling drunkenly at her side. Kuroo winked, making sure they were taken care of before crossing his arms. What was he about to…?

_ “Tsukki!” _Kuroo complained, whirling around to face his junior. “I forgot what I was going to say!”

“Are you a child?” Tsukishima furrowed his brow.

“It’s _ your fault!” _

“How?”

Kuroo whined, slumping against the countertop. “It was a good comeback, too!”

When neither spoke for a moment, he cautiously raised his gaze to lock it with Tsukishima’s, who stared at him from over the rim of his glass. Upon realizing how close he’d accidentally moved, he offered a quick smile. “Hi.”

“Stand back up, this is creepy.”

“Tsukki,” Kuroo complained, but stood nonetheless, ignoring the beginning of a headache pounding behind his eyes and letting the teasing expression drop. He relaxed his shoulders, and looked over at Tsukki with something closer to a candid expression. “Really—how are you? You still hang out with freckles?”

That seemed to catch Tsukishima off guard, golden eyes blinking up at Kuroo curiously. “Um… sometimes, yeah. Not… recently. But…”

Kuroo snorted, a grin twitching on his lips. “What, did you finally find a special someone that’s taking up all of your time?”

And that—_ that. _

Of all the things he could have asked, _that, _apparently, was the worst.

It was like all the tension that had evaporated from Tsukishima’s shoulders flooded back at once, sending him almost immediately to his feet and shrugging on his coat. Kuroo, alarmed, immediately apologized and stepped forward as if to stop him.

Tsukishima shook his head, pushing his drink across the bar and pulling a few bills from his wallet. “Sorry, it’s late. I should really head out.”

“Tsukishima—” Kuroo started, “wait, hold on—”

His words died in his throat when Tsukki shot him a quick smile over the zipper of his coat, rendering him almost completely speechless. “I’ll see you around, Kuroo-san,” he said.

Kuroo watched him turn on his heel, making a quick break for the exit. His blond head stood out from the sea; his height didn’t disappoint, either—Kuroo would give him that. He felt his posture droop, just a little. His mouth felt sour with questions unanswered.

And there was still a lot he wanted to ask: Do you live around here? Did you keep playing volleyball since you graduated Karasuno? Did you keep in touch with your team? Want to help me practice serves after my shift?

Tsukishima was gone before Kuroo could, leaving the door swinging behind him. The shift had been… so _ abrupt. _Kuroo hadn’t—the only thing he’d done was tease him about his love life. Maybe it was Yamaguchi who had been pulling away? Kuroo frowned, trying not to speculate it too much.

That didn’t make him feel any less like shit for driving him away, though.

He tapped his nails on the smooth surface of the bar, biting his lip and staring at the door. _ Sorry! _ Tsukki would say when he came back in. _ That was very rude of me. By the way, you look really good. Have you been working out? _

Kuroo sighed, pushing his hair off of his forehead and tearing his gaze away when that did not, in fact, happen. Who was he kidding? He’d… done something to upset him. That thought alone pressed hard on his shoulders. 

Across the bar, one of the regulars crooned, “hey, pretty, want to come back to my place when your shift’s over?”

Kuroo looked over at the man, who had to be in his late fifties, judging by the aging lines in his face. One of the women next to him shot him an incredulous look out of the corner of her eye, but no one said anything about the inquiry. Kuroo pushed his hair out of his face again, used to this routine. Different song, same dance.

“Sure,” he drawled, propping his hip on the counter. “If you got any money for me.”

“You know I do, doll,” the man murmured, raising a brow.

Kuroo smiled back at him, and ignored how his mouth tasted like dry ash for the rest of the night.


End file.
